Page 17 of The Situation
Everything has been going so well. Charlie has shown me nothing but kindness and encouragement, and we’ve been working seamlessly together. He even said he knew I was perfect for the job as soon as I walked into our interview.
So what could be the problem now?
A bubble of anxiety churns in my stomach. I cannot lose this job. Financially speaking, I’d be fine. I can always return to full-time at The Luxe. But money isn’t my main objective.
This job fulfills me. It challenges me.Excites me.
When one of my clients mentioned that her husband was hiring for a position at his work, and she thought I should apply, I was intrigued. But when I heard what the position was for—that it involved so many things that I loved so much—I was all in. By the time the interview rolled around, I wasn’t beyond begging for a chance to prove I was the perfect fit.
Luckily, it didn’t come to that.
“I’m sure he just wants a face-to-face update,” I say, hoping Tally doesn’t worry about this all weekend. “We didn’t sit down with him this week. Remember?”
“Yes, I bet you’re right.” The relief in her tone is evident. “Do you have anything else for me?”
“I don’t think so. Go and have a great weekend. Do you have any plans?”
“I’m going home this weekend to train for a pickleball tournament.”
“You never fail to surprise me, Tally,” I say, laughing.
“Why?” She laughs, too. “You don’t see me as a pickleballer?”
“Admittedly, I don’t know a lot about pickleball, but I have seen a few videos, and it can get vicious. On the other hand, you are five-foot-nothing and sweet and precious. I can’t see you slamming a ball at someone’s face.”
She giggles. “See? That’s my superpower. They see me as this innocent twentysomething and write me off. Then I walk onto the court and rip their hearts from their bodies.”
Laughter erupts from me so quickly that I cough.
“That may be a little dramatic,” she says. “But you get the point. I’m no pickleball joke. My hometown has a yearly tournament, and I’m the reigning champ for four years straight. I’ve had different teammates, so clearly, I’m the common denominator.”
“Clearly.”
“This year’s prize is the biggest yet,and I will win. But, to do that, I have to teach my boyfriend how to play.”
I lean against the counter, amused. “Is he not an athlete?”
“No, he is. He played baseball for the community college. But pickleball is not just about athleticism. You have to have chemistry with your teammate. You have to be able to predict their reactions and trust them to handle their side of the court. A lot goes into it.”
“I wish you the best of luck,” I say, grinning.
“Thanks, but I don’t really need it. I’m a legend.”
I can’t help it—I laugh again.This girl is something else.
“What about you?” she asks. “You have the event tomorrow. What are you doing the rest of the time? Is there a cocktail hour or something?”
Not exactly, but there could’ve been cock involved if I would’ve said yes to Tate,I think.
I clear my throat and try to decide what to tell her.
Our relationship is 95 percent professional, and I make a concerted effort not to make our conversations too personal. But building camaraderie with your team is essential. She’s my right hand and the person I need to vibe with the most. Giving her bits and pieces of me and my life goes a long way.
Besides, I want to tell someone about Tate. I want to share the excitement with another woman that a ridiculously hot guy asked me out, and Jamie didn’t answer when I called her earlier. She didn’t call me back, either.
Maddie must have been a handful.
“Something exciting happened to me today.” I shove away from the counter.
